


Accio Cupcake

by manuq14



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2620946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manuq14/pseuds/manuq14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Carmilla Hogwarts AU. It starts when they're first years, will eventually be Laura/Carmilla. This is my first AU fic, so please bring on the constructive criticism. I hope you like it :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Letters

Two brown eyes stared intently at the unburnt logs in the marble fireplace. _Incendio_. The logs remained as cool as the marble that surrounded them. _Incendio_. The setting sun shone red through the window and, for a moment, the logs looked aflame; but then the moment passed and once again they were dark and unmoving. _Incendio_. A knock came at the door.

\- Lady Karnstein?

 _Incendio_. Another knock.

\- Lady Karnstein? May I come in?

 _Incendio_. The knock came again, this time a more insistent rapping

\- Lady Karnstein? Are you in there?

 _Dammit_.

\- Come in Alicia.

Carmilla looked away from the dead fireplace, gracefully lifting herself of the floor in one swift movement; the sliver-lined hem of her long, black robe sweeping the ground and curling beside her as she stood. She looked towards the door, and greeted her handmaiden with a polite nod of her head.

\- My apologies for the disturbance Milady, - said the young woman with a small bow - your Lady mother requests you join her for supper.

 

Carmilla sat to the right of her mother. _A place of honour_ , her mother always said, _an honour to sit to the right of the head of the table_. Carmilla thought it would be more honourable if her mother would look at her every once in a while. Or maybe it would be better if she sat all the way across the long mahogany table, facing her mother from across the room. Perhaps not as honourable a seat, but at least it would a more dramatic mise en scène. Carmilla had always had a flair for the dramatic; or so her mother said.

 

 _Why is it that whenever one is most thirsty, there never seems to be a server around to pour water into one’s goblet?_ Carmilla mused. The silver jug of water was sitting right there on the table at her mother’s left side, much too far for Carmilla’s arms to reach. Besides, _a lady never reaches, Carmilla_ , her mother had said. She could ask her mother to pass the jug, but when she turned her head to look at her, she saw she was engrossed reading the letter that the butler had brought in after the soup had been served. _You mustn’t interrupt when her ladyship is busy, Carmilla_ , her governess had instructed. Her ladyship looked pretty busy now, so asking her to pass the water did not seem like a good option. Deciding it was the only course of action, Carmilla reached into the inside left pocket of her robe, looking for her wand, but her hand closed around air in the empty pocket. _Never be without your wand, Carmilla,_ her Lord father had said as they had left Ollivander’s, _it must always be with you, an extension of your arm._ It had been a Thursday, Carmilla remembered. She remembered because she could count the times she had been out with her father on the fingers of one hand.

 

On that Thursday morning _,_ four years ago, she had woken up and sprung out of bed. Running to her closet, she had pulled on her best winter robe, not even bothering to wait for her handmaiden to dress her. She had been halfway through lacing up her boots when Alicia had walked in.

\- Happy birthday, little Carmilla, - the young woman had said, kneeling down and helping the girl with the bootlaces. _That was the last time she ever called me that_ , Carmilla realised with a small pang of longing, _I became Lady Karnstein to her the moment I returned home with a wand._ But her handmaiden’s wishes for a happy birthday had been of little concern to Carmilla that day, and as soon as her boots were laced up she had raced trough the long halls of the manor, bounded down the stairs, dashed across the length of another hallway, and almost collided into her father at the entrance to his library. \

\- I’m ready! - she had all but yelled - I’m ready!

\- My lady, - her father had said, taking her small hand in his, - Diagon Alley awaits.

They had stepped into the chimney, and the last thing Carmilla had seen, before her vision had filled with green flames, had been her mother giving her a small wave.

 

Ollivander’s had been far more exciting, and far more terrifying, that Carmilla had ever imagined. She remembered every little detail about the things that had called her attention that day; the dust fairies dancing in the light that came from the window, the slight movement of the little bronze bell on the counter, the apparently haphazard disorder of the thousands of long boxes stacked on the towering shelves, the big book laying open atop the counter, the messiness of Mr. Ollivander’s hair… She had been vaguely aware of the conversation between Mr. Ollivander and her father. _Only seven…too young… she’s my heir… everyone in our family_ … She had known what her father was talking about. She knew every heir to the Karnstein title got their first wand on their seventh birthday; that it was a rite of passage - the first of many they would go through on their way to becoming the Lord Karnstein - or lady, in her case, - and that Mr. Ollivander could protest all he wanted, but it would be in vain. In the end Mr Ollivander had conceded, as she knew he would, and had brought out a few wands for her to try. She had tried three wands, all of which had backfired quite spectacularly, until at last the wand-maker had brought out the perfect wand for her. Ash, 12 3/4 inches, rigid, with a double core of phoenix feather and dragon heartstring. Carmilla had never seen her father look so proud. _Never be without your wand, Carmilla_ , he had said. _So where **was** her wand?_

 

Carmilla shook her head slightly as she remembered where her wand was; she had left it on her nightstand. _Idiot_. She had wanted to keep the wand out of reach while she tried to ignite the logs without it. She knew if she had it with her, she would be tempted to use it. _And for what? I am never going to be able to do wandless magic, not again._ She had done it once before: on the morning of her ninth birthday, when Alicia had come in and had told her her father had gone away on an urgent matter, and hoped to return in a fortnight, and that he was sorry he would miss her birthday. One second her handmaiden had been standing besides her bed, pulling back the drapes of the canopy, and the next she had jumped back screaming, the thick, velvet curtains now ablaze. _It was a fluke_. That’s what she always told herself, it was the only way she could explain never being able to repeat the feat. _So, no wand, no water. Unless_ … Bringing her goblet close to her face, Carmilla looked into it keenly, her brown eyes as focused now as they had been upstairs next to her fireplace. _Aguamenti_. Nothing. _Aguamenti_. The goblet remained empty. _Aguamen_ …

\- Carmilla? Did you hear what I said?

Carmilla snapped her head up and looked at her mother.

\- Pardon?

\- I said, your Hogwarts letter arrived today in the mail.

Carmilla’s goblet clanged heavily as it hit the hardwood floor.

————— ————— ————— ————— —————

 

 

Laura loved school. Well, no, not really. Laura loved her classes. Actually, not really either. Laura loved her English class. Yes, that was it, Laura loved English class. She loved reading. She would read anything that fell into her lap; children’s books, novels, short stories, newspaper articles, magazines, poems, comic books. Everything and anything Laura could get her hands on, she read. And she loved writing. She had already won the school’s ‘budding journalist’ award three years in a row, and whenever anyone asked her what she wanted to be when she grew, the answer always was ‘journalist.’ But now, now it was summer and Laura was bored. She missed school, well, she missed English class. _Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored_. All of her friends were gone. Gabby and Sophie had left for theatre camp last week, and Jake had gone to France with his parents. _Boooooored._ She had begged her dad to send her to camp with Gabby and Sophie. She had cried, and pleaded, and bargained; but it had all been to no avail. Her dad thought it was too dangerous and had refused to send her. So here she was, trapped in her small town, where the most exciting thing to ever happen had been a troubadour coming into town for a couple of days. _Well, the most exciting thing I can actually tell people about_.

 

She had just turned eight when it had happened. She had been playing with her kite in the backyard when it had gotten stuck on the branch of a tree. She had quickly started to climb up to untangle it, completely disregarding all of the times her father had told her not to climb trees, when she suddenly lost her footing. She had closed her eyes as she fell, hoping against hope that she would not hit her head. Time seemed to have slowed down, _what a terribly cliche thing to happen right before you die_ , but after a while her fall seemed to be taking too long, even for a cliche, so she had opened her eyes. She was hovering a few inches above the ground, completely safe, completely not dead, and completely _so not a cliche_. And then she had dropped those last few inches. Confused - and a little bit terrified, she had to admit - Laura had done the only thing she could think to do: she had hit the books. After days, and days, and days of research, Laura had come to the realisation that the only logical conclusion was that she was a witch. ** _A witch_**.

\- Laura? - her dad called up to her room - you’ve got a letter sweetie

\- Coming!

Laura took the letter from her dad’s hand with a mumbled thanks. The envelope was heavy. Laura turned it in her hands and inhaled sharply. Above the red wax seal was an emblem. A crest adorned by four animals: a lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle. _Hogwarts. HOGWARTS. Hogwarts. Hog… Shit. How am I going to explain this to my dad?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment or a review to tell me what you think! <3


	2. The Train

Laura felt her dad put a protective hand on her shoulder. 

\- Are you sure that this is what you have to do? - he asked, not for the first time.

\- Yes dad - she said, nodding - I just run straight at the barrier and I’ll be on platform 9 3/4 

\- Ok 

Her dad grabbed gently her by both shoulders and turned her around to face him. 

\- Anything you need - he said - anything at all, you write to me, ok?

\- Thank you dad

\- And if you want to come home…

\- Dad

\- And _if_ you want to come home - he kept saying, pretending not to hear her - you just say the word and I’ll bring you home

\- Ok dad 

He knelt to her level and looked her in the eyes

\- I love you

\- I love you too daddy 

\- Stay safe 

He enveloped her in a hug, and Laura gladly retuned it. They stayed liked that for a few minutes, both making a valiant effort to stop the tears from falling. Finally Laura disentangled herself from the hug.

\- I will - she promised. And with that, she turned around and ran, pushing her trolley in front of her. Her dad stayed where he was, holding his breath as she ran, and only breathing again when she had disappeared into the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. 

 

Laura’s breath caught in her throat. _Holy fish sticks this is actually real._ She felt like she couldn’t move, like she was trapped in a whirlpool of colour and sound. She stood where she was, turning around on the spot, trying to take everything in. The platform was brimming with people, trunks, and pets. Older teenagers were saying a hurried goodbye to their parents, running off to say hi to their friends; younger students, her age and a little older, taking more time saying goodbye; fathers were helping to load trunks onto the train; little siblings were crying and begging to go too; _and mothers_ … well mothers were doing what mothers do; kissing their children, asking a million questions - did you remember to bring all your books, did you pack enough socks, do you have an extra quill - flattening unruly hair, hugging and letting go and then hugging again. Laura looked away, shaking herself out of her reverie. _Have to get on the train and find a place to seat before they’re all taken._ She loaded her trunk onto the train and went to find a seat.

 

Laura made her way down the hallway, peeking into each compartment as she passed, trying to find an empty one. Most of them were already full. There were ones that had only one or two people in them, but they looked a lot older than her and kind of intimidating. _Whoops, not this one._ She backed away quickly from a compartment in which two older students seemed to be trying to eat each other’s face. She kept walking. 

\- Susan!

\- It’s LaFontaine, Perry

\- Fine, LaFontaine, you can’t just put your frog on the seat. It’s not sanitary, you need to put it in a cag…oh hello!

\- Hi! - said Laura, smiling at the two bickering students - do you guys mind if I seat here? - she asked, hoping they would say yes. They looked to be about her age and, most importantly, they looked friendly. 

\- Sure! - said the one with the curly hair 

\- Thank you - said Laura sitting down - I’m Laura, Laura Hollis - she added with a smile

\- I’m Lola Perry - the curly haired one introduced herself - and this is Susan LaFontaine 

\- LaFontaine, or LaF, whichever - her friend amended 

\- Nice to meet you both.

 

 

—————           —————           —————           —————           —————

 

Carmilla stood patiently next to her mother. _A lady must learn to wait,_ was what her governess had said. _But_ ** _this_** _lady is running out of patience and, worst of all, is going to miss the train._ Carmilla looked up to her mother, trying her hardest to hide the sullen expression on her face. 

\- Mother? - she asked politely - I don’t want to miss the train 

\- Oh, of course. - Her mother excused herself from the conversation she was having with… _someone who’s name I have apparently already forgotten._ \- Let’s go Carmilla.

Carmilla said goodbye to her mother by the side of the train; a quick hug, a last look-over to check that she was properly dressed, a promise to tell her father she had sent her love, and her mother was gone. Carmilla felt a tiny pang of sadness, but she quickly shrugged it off and got on the train. _I am so late, there aren’t going to be any empty compartments left._ She walked up and down the hallway, unsure of how to approach people to ask if she could sit with them. _All  of the etiquette and grace I’ve been taught and no one thought to teach me how to talk to people my age._ She kept walking down the hallway, determined to find an empty compartment so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone, when she heard a voice behind her. 

\- There’s room in this one 

Carmilla turned around and saw a girl with light brown hair leaning out of the doorway of one of the compartments. 

\- What? - she asked, looking around to see if the girl was talking to her 

\- I said, there’s room in this one, you can seat here if you want. 

Carmilla wanted to say no. She desperately wanted to find an empty compartment. _Besides_ , s _he looks too nice, too…chipper._ But she knew the chances of finding one were slim to none. 

\- Fine - she said and then, remembering her manners - thank you 

Carmilla followed the girl into the compartment. Inside were another two students. _Great,_ she thought, _I get to sit with chipper, lively, and perky._

\- I’m Laura - chipper introduced herself 

\- Perry - said lively 

\- LaFontaine - added perky 

\- Carmilla - she answered drily. And with that, she pulled out her book and shielded herself with it, hopping to ignore the three merry musketeers for the duration of the train ride. 

 

Try as she might, Carmilla could not focus on her book. Bouncy, giggly, and hyper were just too distracting. Sighing, she resigned herself to no being able to read, and decided to listen to their conversation, being careful to keep her face hidden behind her book. 

\- So did your parents go to Hogwarts too? - floppy hair ( _Something-Fountain I think she said her name was)_ was asking the nice one ( _Lauren? Laura? I should really pay more attention to names)_

\- No - she answered - my dad's not a wizard 

\- Oh so he’s a muggle?

\- A what? 

_Who doesn’t know what a muggle is?_

\- A muggle - explained the one with the hair ( _Perry, I’m pretty sure she said her name was Perry)_ \- a muggle is a non-magical human

\- Oh, I see, then yes, he is a muggle 

\- What about your mum? - the bouncy one asked (LaFontaine, _that’s it! Not fountain…I think)_

\- I don’t know - the chipper one answered, looking decidedly less chipper - we never talk about her much. - Carmilla saw her shake her head and it was like she was visibly shaking off the sudden sadness, within a moment she was back to being chipper _and annoying._ \- What about  your parents? - she asked the other two

\- My parents are both wizards, but only my dad went to Hogwarts. My mum went to Beauxbatons, she’s part french. 

\- And what about your Perry?

\- My parents hmph - the curly haired one cleared her throat, her voice rising an octave. _How is that even possible, only bats can hear people who talk this high… god this annoying._ \- my parents are squibs, so they didn’t go to Hogwarts.

\- Squibs? - asked mademoiselle friendliness ( _Laura, yes, she definitively said Laura.)_

\- A squib is someone who is born to magical parents, but doesn’t have magic themselves - the one who was always smiling clarified - Perry’s parents don’t have magic, but she does. 

_It must be exhausting to be a muggle-born and not know any of this stuff,_ Carmilla thought, _almost as exhausting as listening to these three talk._

 

Despite the dullness of their conversation, Carmilla couldn’t help but listen to them talk. They talked throughout the entire train ride, only stopping when the food cart had come around. The small one,  _Laura_ _I really need to start remembering her name,_ had bought one of everything. _Someone has a sweet-tooth._ Carmilla had put down her book for a moment, bought a chocolate frog, and then quickly hid her face back in her book before the fantastic three could even think about talking to her. She nibbled on her frog and pretended to read, all the while listening to their conversation. Carmilla learned a few things about her new classmates:

1\. Laura’s mother had passed away when she was an infant

2\. LaFontaine and Perry had been best friends since they were 5

3\. Apparently Perry did not want to go to Hogwarts. _What the hell is wrong with this one?_ She had said that it was a bit daunting for her because, since her parents and her sisters were all squibs, her family had always lived with very little magic and this was all very new and very scary. Carmilla had tried very hard to not roll her eyes.

4\. Laura loved to read and write. Despite herself, a tiny smile had crept up Carmilla’s face when she heard this. As soon as she realised this, she quickly returned her face to her signature scowl. 

 

Carmilla looked out the window for a while, listening to the conversation in the background as the English countryside flew past her window. After a while, Carmilla found herself wanting to participate in the conversation. She quickly chalked it up to the stress of being far away from home for the first time, and returned her attention to her book. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please tell me what you think! <3


	3. The Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a Carmilla Hogwarts AU. It starts when they're first years, will eventually be Laura/Carmilla. This is my first AU fic, so please bring on the constructive criticism. I hope you like it :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am soooo sorry this took so long. I had finals and then I was dealing with family shit. Second, I am not liking this chapter at all, but I've had a fever of 103 for the past five days and my brain can't do any better than this, sorry. Also, the sorting hat song is from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" it belongs to J.K Rowling (duh) and I mean no copyright infringement.

\- Well, that was highly unpleasant - Laura said to LaF and Perry as they got off of the train.

\- You’re telling me - said LaF - she looked like she’d rather hex herself than talk to us.

\- Guys, please - chimed Perry - maybe she’s just scared, or homesick, or maybe she…

\- Firs’ years oe’r here! - boomed a voice above them.

Laura looked up and gulped; the owner of the voice had to be the tallest man she had ever seen in her life. He towered well above the oldest students, his wiry, long, and wild hair making him seem even bigger than he was. A few of the older students went up to him and shook his hand, or hugged him. Laura looked to her left and was relieved to see that at least LaF and Perry, and most of the other first years for that matter, looked and bewildered as she felt. She saw LaF take Perry’s hand in theirs and give it a reassuring squeeze and, not for the first time nor the last time that day, wished she had a best friend to help her navigate all of this excitement and fear. 

 

Perry turned to Laura and smiled, and the three of them started to follow other first years as they made their way to the large man. When Laura turned around to see where the older students were going, she saw Carmilla walking a few people behind them. _How can she look so unaffected? Does she not see we are walking towards a giant?_

\- This everyone? - said giant asked, looking at the crowd of tiny wizards and witches gathered before him, - good then, firs’ years follow me! - he boomed as he turned around and tarted to lead them down a shady path. 

\- I’m Hagrid, - he introduced himself - keeper of grounds and keys at Hogwarts. 

They followed Hagrid to the edge of a lake, where a fleet of small boats was waiting for them.

\- Three per boat - his voice thundered above them as the students began to climb into the boats.

Laura followed LaF and Perry into one of the boats. They sat huddled close together, perhaps a little closer than was actually necessary despite the small size of the boat, and looked around expectantly. Once all the other students had made their way into a boat, the fleet started moving as one. _Ok, boats that move on their own, that’s a thing now. Are they enchanted, or are they being pulled by some sort of underwater creature, or maybe are they…_

\- So, which house do you think you’re going to get sorted into?- LaF asked her, interrupting her thoughts.

\- I… don’t know - Laura admitted, - I’m not really sure how the sorting process works.

\- A hat does it - they offered up as explanation - you wear it and it sorts you into the house it thinks you belong in, but I’ve heard you can ask it to put you in another house if you have a preference. 

\- Do you? - Laura asked them. She was curious, she didn’t really know much about the houses, or what traits made you better suited to one over another. 

\- Yeah, I want to be in Hufflepuff - LaF said, smiling.

\- Perry, who had so far been very quiet, looked over at her friend with a small smile.

\- You don’t have to, you know - she said to them.

\- I know, but I want to.

Perry smiled brightly at LaFontaine, and Laura just gave her new friends a small, confused smile. She had no idea what had happened during that conversation, but apparently it had made Perry very happy. Laura was about to ask what they were talking about when suddenly the castle came into view. Laura drew in a sharp breath, which made LaF and Perry turn around to see what she was looking at.

\- Wow… - said LaF - it’s even bigger than I imagined it would be.

Laura could only nod her agreement. 

 

———————————————————————————————————————

 

Carmilla stood a little away from the other first years, completely still. _A lady never fidgets_ , _Carmilla_ , her governess had told her several times. Her classmates were standing in a stone staircase, waiting, huddled together a little closer than they normally would. Professor McGonagall, a stern-looking witch in green robes, had told them to wait until she called them in for the sorting ceremony. Carmilla could feel the nervous energy in the air, and she couldn’t say she didn’t feel the same way. She had grown up knowing about Hogwarts. She knew which classes they taught, she knew about the different houses, she knew how you got sorted into the houses, she knew about the house elves in the kitchens and about the thestrals pulling the carriages; and yet she still felt very nervous about what was to come. All of her family were Slytherins. _Every. Single. One_. And yet Carmilla had never felt like she would belong in Slytherin. She didn’t think that ambition was what drove her, _but then again, if not ambition, what?_ So Carmilla was nervous about the sorting, but she wasn’t sure if she was more nervous about being sorted into Slytherin or about not being sorted into Slytherin. 

 

Professor McGonagall came back and led them, single file, into the Great Hall. Carmilla couldn’t help but gasp with the other students when she saw the ceiling. Thousands of candles were floating from the ceiling, which looked exactly like the starry night sky outside. There were four long tables, one for each house, and another table at the end of the hall where the teachers sat. In front of that table was a stool, and on that stool sat the most ragged-looking hat Carmilla had ever seen. Once all of the first years had come in, the hat began to sing: 

 

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve and chivalry,

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin,

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means,

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!”

 

After applause and cheering for the hat’s song had died down, Professor McGonagall unrolled a piece of parchment, and began calling names. 

\- Arnold, Hannah - she called; and a shy-looking girl with long blonde hair made her way to the hat, and was declared a Hufflepuff. 

\- Asquith, William - professor McGonagall called next. Carmilla looked up as a thin boy with dark hair put the hat on his head. The brim of the hat had barely touched his forehead when the hat placed him in Slytherin. 

Professor McGonagall kept calling names on the list. Two girls and boy went to Ravenclaw, two boys to Gryffindor, a girl and a boy to Slytherin, and a boy to Hufflepuff. Carmilla felt her nervousness ebbing away with each person they called. 

\- Hollis, Laura - came the next name on the list. Carmilla looked on curiously as the girl from the train walked up to the hat. _She just screams Gryffindor._ She watched as she put on the hat and, after a few moments of consideration, was placed into Gryffindor. _What did I say?_

A couple of other names were called after Laura, and then came Carmilla’s turn. 

\- Karnstein, Carmilla - called the professor, and all of a sudden Carmilla’s nervousness returned in full force. She willed her feet to move towards the hat. On the outside, she was the picture of grace and composure, she was, after all, a lady; but on the inside, well, she had never felt more like turning tail and bolting in the opposite direction. She finally made it to the hat. She sat on the stool and put the hat on her head; it was big  on her and dropped over her eyes, leaving her in darkness. 

\- Oh, a Karnstein - she heard the hat say in her mind - Karnstein’s make good Slytherins. Let’s see. You’ve got the cunning and the intelligence for it, and Slytherin would surely help you achieve greatness, and yet I feel there is something that wouldn’t quite fit. You are not driven by ambition, oh yes, that’s it. Many of your family were driven to succeed by their ambition, but you are different, all you want is to learn. Very well, better be… Ravenclaw!

 

Carmilla got off of the stool and made her way to the cheering Ravenclaw table. _I’m not in Slytherin. I’m not in Slytherin!! I’m not in Slyther… mother will have a heart attack when she hears._ She sat at the table and shook the hands of the older students who greeted her, and watched as the other first years got sorted into their houses. Tweedledum and Tweedledee from the train were both sorted into Hufflepuff, and both the tall redhead girl named Danny and the boy named Kirsch whom Carmilla had shared the boat with went to Gryffindor. One more boy and three girls went to Slytherin, one girl and three boys to Hufflepuff,  two more boys to Ravenclaw, and one boy and one girl more to Gryffindor. And with that, the sorting ceremony was over. 

 

After the cheering had subsided, the headmaster, an old wizard with long white hair and a long white beard, rose from his seat. 

\- Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts! - he said, addressing the students, - now, I know we are all hungry and thirsty so without further ado, let the feast begin!

Carmilla smiled as the golden platters on the table suddenly filled with tonnes and tonnes of incredible-looking food. She served herself a little bit of everything, and dug in. As she ate, she looked around and listened to the sound of hundreds of voices having happy conversations; the voices of friends catching up after a long summer, the voices of new acquaintances getting to know each other better, the voices of people talking about Quidditch and classes and books and summer flings. She let the sounds of a noisy dinner wash over her as she ate, and her mouth turned up in a tiny smile. _I could get used to this._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment or a review to tell me what you think! <3


End file.
